


Past the Mission

by b_ann



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accused Witch Dean, Aftermath of Violence, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Crisis of Faith, Drifter Dean, Drifter Sam, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Murder, Priest Castiel, Religion, Top Dean, Virgin Castiel, Winchesters Banned from the Church
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 06:31:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3681585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b_ann/pseuds/b_ann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of Father Castiel Collins' charges is harmed and he exacts vengeance violently.  He then finds himself at the mercy of the man banned from the church, accused of witchcraft, when he seeks forgiveness.  He finds his faith renewed in an unlikely way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past the Mission

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kelly42fox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelly42fox/gifts).



> This story, as well as the title, was inspired by Tori Amos' song and music video [Past the Mission](https://youtu.be/AdIgXD1-93U).
> 
> For kelly42fox cause she has a serious thing for Priest Castiel. You're welcome!

Father Collins looked down at his shaking hands; they were covered in blood. Stained. He was stained, no longer pure.

"Father Collins?"

His teeth were chattering and the sound grated on his already frayed nerves. It wasn't the same sound he elicited when he broke that man's skull against one of the large stones that lined the river bed, but it was the only connection his brain was able to make.

"Father Collins?"

He was sure the sight of the two men, eyes blank and lifeless, beaten and bloodied, would be the image that haunted him, but it wasn't. It was the girl. Her split lip, her tear stained cheeks, her torn clothes, her bloodied thighs.

"Castiel?!"

The voice finally broke through his panicked haze. The priest looked up and realized he was no longer in the forest. He was in a cabin, sitting on some sort of fur covered bench.

"Cas," his familiar moniker was sighed. It was then his entire word narrowed and he was drowning in the endless green eyes before him.

Dean Winchester.

The shaking stopped.

"Are you hurt?" Dean's hands covered Castiel's. "I need to know if you're hurt."

"It's not my blood," he whispered, and his voice sounded small, impossibly far away.

"Okay," Dean spoke softly like he would with a spooked horse. "What happened?"

"They took her. They took her from the mission garden. And I should have been there. I should have stopped them."

"Who Cas? Who did they take?"

"Jessica," he gasped and warm tears scorched a path down his cheeks. "She was just a child."

"Where is she now?"

"Balthazar. Balthazar has her."

"And is she safe with him?"

"Yes." There wasn't a question in the priest's mind. Balthazar would protect the girl, make sure she was alright. But she was never going to be alright.

"And the men?"

"I killed them, Dean. With my bare hands."

"And their bodies?"

Father Collins frowned. He just confessed to murdering two men and Dean was worried about their bodies?

"Castiel," Dean said firmly, moving his hands from Castiel's to rest on his knees, warm and grounding. "I need to know where the bodies are."

"Past the mission, behind the prison, by the river."

"Okay." His hands moved up Castiel's thighs and his entire body tingled and flashed warm, then hot. The feeling lingered as the man stood in front of him. "Stay right here. Don't move."

Castiel nodded and watched Dean cross the room to where his brother was sitting quietly and unobtrusive. They spoke, voices too low for the priest to make out words. As soon as their voices died the younger Winchester stood and left the cabin. They were alone and Dean busied himself by the fire, removing a kettle from the embers. 

Castiel looked back down at his hands, they were shaking again. He wanted Dean to come back to him, lay his hands on him, make the horrors disappear.

When Dean returned to crouch in front of Castiel he had a steaming bowl of water and a cloth.

"Here," Dean whispered, placing his hands on Castiel's chest. The shake ceased once again. Then Dean's fingers were on the buttons at Castiel's neck. Green eyes glanced up through his lashes, asking for permission.

Castiel swallowed and nodded his head, Dean's fingers grazing the underside of his chin as he did so.

Slowly, Dean pushed each button through its hole, one after the other. When he finished the line at his waist he ran his hands up the inside of the jacket over Cas' undershirt. A different kind of shiver wracked his body momentarily. Dean pushed the fabric over his shoulders, down his back and off his arms.

Curling his fingers around the hem of Castiel's undershirt, Dean slowly lifted it up and over his head. Next he pulled off Castiel's boots one foot at a time. Once his socks were peeled from his cold feet he was left in front of Dean wearing only his trousers.

Castiel intently watched the man kneel before him and dip the cloth into the hot water. Dean lifted Castiel's hands and wiped them with the wetted cloth, washing the sin from his skin. He was kind and gentle and it broke Castiel's heart. He didn't deserve this. Not after what he did.

Dean cleaned his hands, his arms and then his torso. It wasn't until Dean moved to his face did Castiel break down. A sob tore through his chest and Dean couldn't wrap his arms around him fast enough. Dean raised himself up as high as he could on his knees and pulled Castiel into his chest. 

Castiel buried his head into the man's shirt and cried. He couldn't remember the last time he cried because he never did. But here he was, a man of God, crying in the arms of a pariah who was banned from the church, accused of witchcraft, and he was rubbing Castiel's bare back soothingly.

"I don't know if I can believe in God anymore," Castiel gasped. "She was innocent, she was good. And what those men did to her," he took a ragged breath. "Why would God allow that?"

"I don't have the answers, Castiel," Dean spoke, attempting to sooth Castiel by running one hand through the short hair at the back of his head. The feeling in his stomach was sharp. His lungs felt constrained and his blood like it was boiling. He pushed Dean so he was holding Castiel at an arm's length but close enough to stare down into his eyes.

"I would do it again." Even Castiel was surprised by the growl he made. "If I had another chance to do it all over, I would kill them again. I would rip their throats out for what they did to her."

Dean's pupils dilated in an instant and he actually gasped. At first Castiel thought he was afraid of him, of the violence Castiel was capable of, but Dean's hands squeezed the muscle on Castiel's upper arms and he leaned forward. That wasn't fear at all.

But it should be, Dean should be afraid of him. Pure anger and self hatred forced his body forward and before he even knew what he was doing his mouth was on Dean's crushing their lips together painfully.

It took a moment for Dean to respond and a voice in the back of Castiel's head told him to stop and that what he was wanting was wrong and sinful and went against the vows he had pledged to the church. Before Castiel could pull away Dean groaned and opened his mouth and they tasted each other.

It wasn't his first kiss. There was a girl when he was a teenager who had pulled him behind the school and sweetly pressed her lips to his, but this was so far removed from that experience he had to wonder if this was perhaps his first real kiss. It was violent and passionate and he needed more or he was going to explode.

"Cas," Dean gasped breathlessly.

"Yes!" Castiel almost shouted into Dean's mouth, answering his unasked question.

In one smooth movement Dean pulled Castiel from the seat and onto the ground. He placed a knee on either side of Castiel's thighs and rutted up against him. Then they were pressed up against each other, Dean's tongue thrusting into Castiel's mouth. Castiel was wrapped around the other man, holding on desperately. Their mouths fought for dominance as Dean dug his blunt nails into Castiel's scalp. It was pain and agonizing pleasure wrapped in one and he drank it like he was dying. Maybe he was, a part of him at least.

With a whine, Dean pulled away from the priest below him and sat up, still straddling him. His chest was heaving and his eyes were wild.

"If you don't want to go all the way, you need to stop me now because if we go beyond this point I won't be able to stop." Dean's voice was ragged and his words brutal but honest. It was that honesty, that purity in its own right, that had drawn the priest to the man in the first place when he and his brother came through their little town.

"You have me," Castiel spoke. And it was true. It was also all Dean needed to hear. Castiel watched with rapt attention as the man above him tore his shirt over his head. He was everything the priest had never allowed himself to imagine. Long lines of muscles and tendons over bone that flexed and moved as Dean leaned to one side and then the other removing his boots without giving up his perch on top of Castiel's thighs.

There was more maneuvering and Castiel had to force his eyes closed as Dean removed both of their trousers. He gasped out loud when Dean's overheated flesh pressed against his. Dean's mouth was claiming and worshipping, and Father Collins knew somewhere in the back of his head that this was supposed to be a punishment, and perhaps it would be later, but right at that moment he was in heaven.

Castiel had made his vow of celibacy young and had never been intimate with anyone. Even so, he never had the opportunity to feel self-conscious of his obvious lack of experience when his hips moved upwards into Dean seemingly on their own accord, because Dean moaned. It was the most sinful sound he'd ever heard and all he wanted was to hear it again.

He repeated the movement but the noise Dean made that time was more of a growl and he grasped Castiel's hips and held them to the ground. Then, using the leverage he had gained, he shifted his body down Castiel's leaving a scorching path of lips and tongue and teeth and settling between his legs. After sucking deeply at Cas' hip, he released a hot breath over his erection.

Castiel was well aware of biology and how the male reproductive organs functioned, he wasn't stupid or ignorant, but it wasn't until that moment that he understood how a priest could give up a lifetime of dedication to God for the sins of the flesh. For at that moment he would have done anything, righteous or not, to have Dean wrap his lips around his aching phallus.

Dean's hesitation lasted forever and Castiel had no idea what he was waiting for. He had already given his consent, wanted this, needed it. He actually had to grip the rug beneath him to stop his hands from forcing Dean where he wanted him.

"Dean," left his lips and it was broken and desperate. Finally, Dean's lips closed around Cas' flesh and the curse that left his mouth was a blasphemous, "Jesus Christ!"

His tongue moved along the underside of his penis as he hollowed out his cheeks and sucked. Castiel's mouth opened but his brain couldn't make words come out, just sounds. It was the most glorious torture. As Dean worked him with his mouth, Castiel writhed beneath him, not knowing what to do, but unable to be still. It was the first time he believed this man capable of witchcraft.

Then a hand was moving past his testicles and between his butt cheeks. He had no idea what was on Dean's fingers or when he had acquired whatever it was, but it was warm and slick and before he knew what was happening, before he had a chance to tense, Dean was inserting one long finger.

It was slightly uncomfortable but not painful. He wasn't pumping his finger, more like just spreading the lubricant intimately. Then Dean pulled his mouth from Castiel, running his tongue along the slit at the tip and at that point it really didn't matter what Dean was doing with his hand.

Once the black spots faded from his vision, Castiel looked up to where Dean was sitting up above him, stroking himself.

"Castiel," Dean said without slowing his hand, but he was serious and Castiel knew whatever he was going to say was important. "I don't believe in God. Haven't for a long time. And if I'm wrong and he does exist, I think he's lost faith in us." He leaned over Castiel's body again, his own erection pressing against Castiel's lubricated hole. "But Castiel," he said his name again pointedly. "I believe in you. I have faith in you."

Tears fell from Castiel's eyes as Dean kissed his mouth. All it took was a muffled grunt and Dean was pressing inside of him. It was a slow push until he was seated, fully encased in Castiel's body. 

That moment was the single most important in Castiel's life. In the matter of hours he had become vengeful and wrathful and murdered two men and now he was lustful and engaging in sexual congress with another, a man nonetheless, and he was willing to let him worship Castiel's body like a god. Because at that moment he felt like a god.

Dean began moving then, and for some reason Castiel had anticipated pain, but it was more of a pressure, not quite pleasure, but the closeness he needed at that moment, to become one with another human being, with Dean, was good.

Dean kept an even pace for a few moments before he grasped both of Castiel's ankles and pulled them forward, forcing Cas to bend his knees and angle his pelvis upwards. Dean snapped his hips and Castiel cried out.

"Mother Mary!" It was the single most intense pleasure he had ever felt. His hands finally wrapped around Dean, digging his nails into the flesh at his back.

"There it is," Dean said more to himself than to Cas. He pulled back and snapped his hips once again. The pleasure shot through Castiel's entire body and he could feel his hands and feet tingling with sensation.

He did it again. 

"Dean! Oh! Please, again!"

Dean chuckled. "I'm not planning on stopping until you're coming with my name on your lips."

Dean then picked up a rhythm, hitting that amazing spot each time he thrust inside of Castiel. And each time it elicited a moan and he sounded like a whore asking to be filled. When Dean sped up, adding a dizzying lift to his pelvis each thrust, Castiel took a deep breath and held it, feeling like if he didn't he was going to explode.

But he exploded anyway. The sharp feeling in his abdomen tightened and was violently expelled in a moment of pure pleasure, hitting him in waves and spasms of his penis between their bodies as he ejaculated all over his stomach, warm and wet.

There was a roar above him and then a string of profanities fell from Dean's lips as his entire body tensed against Castiel's. Then Dean collapsed on top of him.

"God, that was amazing," Dean panted. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Castiel simply allowed Dean to rest atop of him, relishing in the weight holding him to the earth. Perhaps what they had done was a sin and he was going to be punished for it, but at that very moment, despite breaking one of the most important commandments, "Thou shalt not kill," and breaking his vow of celibacy lying with mankind as womankind, he had never felt closer to God.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?" he hummed into Castiel's neck.

But Father Collins couldn't form the words to explain what it was he was feeling right at that moment, so he embraced the beautiful man above him and fell silently into a relaxed doze.

~~~

Low voices pulled Castiel out of the light sleep and when he rolled over under a pile of furs his body protested, pleasantly sore. Dean and Sam Winchester were discussing plans for travel.

"Are you leaving?" Castiel asked and his voice was even more rough than it usually was.

There was movement across the cabin and Samuel left out the front door and Dean came to kneel next to Castiel.

"How are you?" Dean asked pushing a lock of Castiel's hair off his forehead.

"Pleasantly painful," Castiel answered honestly.

Dean chucked but didn't comment.

"Are your leaving?" he asked again not swayed by Dean's topic change.

"That's up to you." Dean sat on the floor next to Castiel. "Sam took care of the men. There is nothing to lead anyone back to you," he paused. "Except Jessica. If you decide to run, Sam and I are running with you. If you stay, we stay."

"Why?" It didn't make sense. They had only know each other for a little over a year.

Dean's smile was soft, with a tinge of red at his cheeks. "What I said," he paused, the smile turning into a smirk and then back to the softer smile. "I have faith in you. I will follow you anywhere."

Castiel's heart rate increased with a slight panic. That was too much, to have one decision be responsible for three lives. He needed more time to weigh the options, to speak with Balthazar, with Jessica.

Castiel looked up and caught the calm green of Dean's eyes. His heart slowed and breath matched the soft rise and fall of Dean's shoulders.

Dean, whether or not he believed it, was righteous, pure, good. His soul was protected by God himself, Castiel could tell, could feel it in his very being. And if he could look upon Castiel without a question of wavering faith, then he would believe it as well. What he did was right. His job and purpose had always been to care for and protect God's flock and here he was needed.

"I will stay," he voiced his decision firmly.

Dean's face fell slightly, until Castiel leaned forward and pressed his lips to Dean's. He soothed Dean's worries with his tongue and was met with a relieved enthusiasm.

"I will stay _with_ you," Castiel clarified. He kissed him again deeply, making sure Dean understood his meaning. What they had done had been more than physical. They had become one soul, mind and body. Castiel had the wet mess at his hind end to prove it. And experiencing that only once could be the only sin.

Dean pulled away from Father Collins and smiled. "Then the answer is no, we are not leaving."

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be a one shot until literally the last paragraph and then a crazy idea popped into my head. So there will probably be at least one more installment in this story, I just don't know when.


End file.
